


Day 02 - Restraint - Foreplay

by naboru



Series: 30 Days of Porn [2]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Dubious Consent, Energy Field Play, M/M, PWP, Smut, Tactile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-28
Updated: 2011-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-21 21:45:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naboru/pseuds/naboru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Breakdown wakes up with a sensor echo which is nothing of the kind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 02 - Restraint - Foreplay

**Title:** Foreplay  
 **Continuity:** G1  
 **Warnings:** PWP, smut (tactile, energy field play with a hint to plug’n’play), dub-con, light bondage  
 **Pairing:** Vortex/Breakdown  
 **Rating:** R  
 **Disclaimer:** Sadly, I own nothing.  
 **Summary:** Breakdown wakes up with a sensor echo which is nothing of the kind.  
 **Prompt:** Restraint  
 **Beta:** [ultharkitty](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty)

 **Note:** Written for Day 02 of the [_30 Days of Porn_ Meme](http://community.livejournal.com/moebiusschleife/7125.html).  
Yeah, I guess with that it’s official: [I have](http://naboru-narluin.livejournal.com/129010.html) [a thing](http://community.livejournal.com/moebiusschleife/6269.html) for molested submissive!Breakdown…

 

 **Foreplay**

Half-awake systems sensed an energy field touching Breakdown’s while his CPU booted up.

He shivered. It felt good, although it also felt different.

Breakdown enjoyed it nonetheless, and sighed.

His still slow-clocking processor treated it as memory; a sensory echo created during recharge or reboot which resembled human dreams. A pleasurable ghost sensation of a pulsing energy field; it wasn’t strange that its signature was different than his team mates’.

Breakdown exhaled air again in a sigh when the intensity of the echo increased, triggering a pleasantly prickling charge on his sensors. This was odd, however, as it should actually have ebbed away after he awoke. He stretched on the berth, as though movement could shake the feeling off, but trying this made him tense.

He could only move his legs freely, his arms where bound above his head, and now while attempting to move, he noticed the pressure on his wrists.

Breakdown’s optics snapped online, and he suppressed a scream.

His force field activated by reflex.

The first thing he saw was a red visor, leaning over him all too close. Staring at him motionlessly, the face to which it belonged hidden behind a battle mask.

 _Vortex._

Breakdown just knew, even without seeing the rotor blades.

He glanced up at his hands; they were chained to the berth, and he could barely move his arms. At least it seemed Breakdown was still in his own room, which on second thought wasn't that reassuring.

How had the Combaticon been able to come in? Unnoticed?

Breakdown tensed even more, if this was possible, and his optics met the red visor anew.

He whimpered.

But Vortex didn’t do anything. The ‘copter just leant over him, his energy field pulsing.

With the force field active, its surges couldn’t penetrate Breakdown’s armour, but the light pressure was still present.

The Stunticon’s vents worked faster due to the panic.

Then Vortex sighed. “Such a shame you woke up…”

Another whimper as Vortex reached for his cheek. The talon couldn’t touch the metal, but there, too, was this pressure which he felt faintly.

“You seemed to like me better with your optics offline.”

“I didn’t!” The residual charge made Breakdown’s voice crackle with static.

“Sure…” was all Vortex said when his hand stroked down over the force field-protected blue-white chassis.

Breakdown tore at the cuffs, but it only made his wrists ache, and so he stopped. He began squirming, trying to free himself, his gaze fixed at the red glow staring at him.

His attempts were futile, though, and the ministration on his frame continued.

No, not his frame, his field protected him from any actual touch, protected him from damage, but the sensations of someone’s hands so close were still there.

Breakdown tugged at the cuffs anew, wiggling, moving restlessly, not giving up, even though his chances weren’t high. The ‘copter leant over him, a grey bulk of metal, heavier than Breakdown, and more experienced in combat, not to mention seriously sick in the processor… And always watching him.

How long had Vortex studied him, and how had Breakdown missed it? Why hadn’t he noticed that he was being _watched_.

And then, suddenly, the visor went dark.

Breakdown’s frantic movements stopped, only his fans still working fast.

With the red optics offline, Breakdown relaxed slightly. He didn’t trust the ‘copter, though.

Vortex hummed contently; Breakdown didn’t know why.

The almost touches continued, intensified, along with the field flares.

“What are you doing? Let me go.”

“Hmmm… can’t.”

Breakdown frowned, but couldn’t ask when the other leant down, close to his audio sensor and carried on with a hoarse voice. “I’ve been waiting for this - for _you_ \- for a very long time, you know. Ain’t gonna let you go now.”

Breakdown shuddered. This was insane…

A glossa flicked over his force field. He didn’t felt the wet touch, but he could imagine it, and his mind and body betrayed him when a hot thrill ran down his spine.

The ‘copter continued, with his caresses - and the staticky voice. “How about turning your force field off? I can’t touch you this way…”

Breakdown tensed again. Turning it off meant being vulnerable, and that with the Combaticon helicopter nearby was… _insane_.

“N… no.”

“Hmmm…” another hum which made the force field vibrate. “What a shame. I wanna remember that. Wanna remember _you_. Can’t do that properly with my optics offline, need my hands…”

Again, there was a surge of something really inappropriate.

The ‘copter was dangerous, not to mention a lunatic, but Breakdown’s systems didn’t seem to care.

“You won’t look at me?”

“Won’t…” Vortex muttered, engine revving.

Breakdown switched his force field; and then the touches and field pulses became _real_.

Breakdown shuddered at the sudden intensity, and the obvious desire written in the other’s energy signature. He bit his lower lip so as not to moan.

Hands roved over his frame, slowly, sometimes teasingly and sometimes with a firm pressure on transformation seams. A glossa licked over his wheel rim, and Breakdown arched.

Every inch of his frame was mapped out by these curious talons, skilfully distracting him from the danger he might be in. And it still seemed as though it was only for Vortex to be able to remember later.

Breakdown’s cooling fans continued working frantically, though the reason had changed as the heat rose along with the tingling pleasure on his sensor nodes. He squirmed anew, and the movement reminded him of the chains that bound his hands.

He whimpered.

And it appeared Vortex had read his mind when the attention of the other’s digits shifted to his restrained hands. They forced his clenched fists to open, and stroked down over every finger, before the glossa licked Breakdown’s fingertips mockingly.

Breakdown’s engine rumbled louder when a surge of heat went straight to his interface panel.

Oh Sigma, what had he got himself into, he thought, but the coherence was lost as talons traced over his panel.

Breakdown whimpered once more. “Don’t hurt me…”

Despite all the heat, he was still too aware who was leaning over him, whose energy field crackled against his and caused that wonderful prickling, and who’s hands were on his chassis. Hands which were known to be vicious, but which felt so good at this particular moment.

Vortex’ lip plates were again at the side of his helm, nibbling for a slight moment, before the ‘copter said. “Slag, you’re so fraggable, you know that? You’re gorgeous…”

Breakdown quivered at the words.

A palm pressed at his interfacing panel while a thumb brushed down his cheek and over his lip plates - lips plates trembling with the desire to kiss.

“…here…” Vortex mumbled, and extended his energy field, the intensity incredible were he touched Breakdown and the pulse surging through the cover of his panel right into his hardware.

Breakdown writhed.

The fingers slid over his shoulder to his wheel rim, the other’s field flared again with every word. “…here… and…”

Breakdown moaned when the charge increased inside his panel, the hand there never moving away.

The touch on his other side went further down, over the rim of his intake - where the energy field rushed into him once more - to his hip, and rested there.

Squirming, Breakdown gasped at every flare, bending his knee, his heel scuffed over the berth. The pleasure build, surging hot, and he eventually forgot who was doing this to him, its importance lost within bliss.

He whimpered, and moaned static laden when talons teased a transformation seam just above his waist.

“…and I think this spot…” Vortex continued, digging his finger in the Stunticon’s hip joint. “…I like the most.”

Vortex’ field flared, powerfully, a pulse running over Breakdown’s whole frame, most intense on his interface panel. It sent the Stunticon into his first overload that night.


End file.
